Music to My Ears
by Claire Zulkey

In the world of entertainment, not many artists manage to appeal to two generations at once. By and large, what is often treasured by the Baby Boomers is either hated or misunderstood by their children. And vice versa.

Lorenzo Music, however, who died Aug. 7 at 64 from bone cancer, is one of the few crossovers who, in a quiet way, touched the lives of both Baby Boomers and their now-growing children.

Music began his career as a folk singer, performing in a group with his wife Henrietta, and forayed into television as the creator of "The Bob Newhart Show." He wrote for other shows as well, such as "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour" and "The Mary Tyler Moore Show." Music came out from behind the scenes on the Moore spin-off "Rhoda" as the often-intoxicated "Carlton your doorman."

"His was the definition of off-beat humor," says Jack Riley, best known as the ascerbic Mr. Carlin on the "Bob Newhart Show." "He'd surprise you with his lack of trying. He wasn't in your face, which was the counterpoint of most humor."

After what Riley calls "burning out" on sitcom writing, Music became a voice actor, starring in such cartoons as "Garfield and Friends," "The Real Ghostbusters" and "The Gummi Bears," as well as in commercials, most notably as a crash test dummy in a long-running series of safety ads.

Music was, to say the least, multitalented. In Riley's eulogy he said, "When you're born with a last name like 'Music,' you know that God has something special in mind for you."

The majority of Music's obituaries list his work that appealed to the older crowd, the '60s and '70s sitcoms, perhaps because that was what he was most well-known for. But he managed to make both adults and children laugh; while the Boomers matured with his sitcom work, my generation's childhood grew up with his voicework.

It is almost impossible for anybody who is currently between their late teens and mid-twenties to have escaped his voice. He was everywhere. He voiced countless cartoons and, in some cases, the commercials between them. Tummi on "The Gummi Bears." Peter Venkman on "The Real Ghostbusters." And, of course, Garfield the cat on "Garfield and Friends."

This was the voice that we turned on after school and woke up to on Saturday mornings. This was the voice of the crash test dummies who taught us about car safety by ramming into walls. We grew up to this voice.

Garfield, at his peak, was the epitome of cool, and he owes a large amount of his persona to the voice given to him. Just like everybody else in the world, he hated Mondays, hated going to the doctor and loved a good lasagna. And once he had a voice, Garfield became a real person.

The voice itself is unmistakable. Sleepy, almost stoned. Friendly, like there is a joke going on, and you're in on it. Sometimes you're in on it, and the character it portrays is not, as was the case with Peter Venkman.

Music's voice was the first I ever fell in love with. When I was a kid, I had a big crush on Dr. Peter Venkman of "The Real Ghostbusters." Perhaps it was the brown floppy hairdo. More likely it was his dopey, egotistical demeanor, offset by Music's slightly sarcastic, gentle voice. His sense of humor it was dry, very dry, and when he was more animated he was hilarious, a hibernating bear awakened in a panic. There was something irresistible about a character as shallow as Venkman with a voice so droll.

I loved listening to his voice as a cartoon. And, as I grew into a young adult, I felt a sense of warmth and recognition whenever I heard his voice in advertisements.

That's something you don't say often about commercials.

Music's still-at-this-time operating Web site is themed around a beachscape, a pair of legs stretched out towards a seascape, with a cool drink and a radio at his side — the attitude reflected in Music's voice. That no matter what his voice is doing, saying or selling, there's a vacation going on in his head.

"I hope he's in voiceover heaven," Riley said at the funeral. So do I.

Music's passing may not be big news in the grand scheme of things, but it's a turning point for the Baby Boomer generation and for that strange, in-between generation between stuck between Gens X and Y, the children of the Baby Boomers. As the Boomers say goodbye to Music, they are watching the end of their young adulthood pass by as we, their children move out and they begin to retire.

Meanwhile, with the death of Lorenzo Music, my generation, the kids of the Boomers, finally begins to realize that we're not kids anymore. We're finishing school and going into the real world. Those are pretty two major turning points for one voice to symbolize.

Lorenzo Music is a truly unsung artist, whose work touched people who often didn't know he was there. You might not know his name or is face, but you'll recognize his voice, and now that it's gone, you'll miss it.

E-mail Claire Zulkey at clairezulkey@hotmail.com.